Chapter Text
Evelyn had left on foot not more than half an hour ago with no weapon, no companions and no goodbye. Cullen found himself pacing, distracted from the drills he had consigned the recruits too. Already there would be more bruises than usual the following morning, now that his inattention had led to rampant incidents of uncorrected posture and poor grips on shields.
She would have told someone something of what she was up to surely. She must have a good reason for setting off into the woods alone. But what?
Cassandra was nearby as usual and had had the most to do with the woman. She lowered her sword reluctantly at Cullen’s approach.
“Did she tell you where she was going?”
“What?”
“The Herald. Went into the woods.”
Cassandra let out an irritated grunt and refocused on her training dummy. “Into the woods then I imagine.”
If Cassandra was unconcerned, Cullen supposed he should be too. But the question of what on earth she was up to continued to niggle at him, pestering him to the point of distraction.
Before he had even registered that he was doing it he had set out into the trees after her in a moment of uncharacteristic rashness. The boot prints in the snow weren’t difficult to follow: she had made no effort to conceal her tracks and he was upon her quickly.
On the ground at the edge of the clearing, she was fussing with something at the base of a pine.
“Evelyn?” His voice carried loudly through the relative silence of the forest. She jumped a little, apparently not having heard him approach, and rose from her crouch, a bundle of greenery in her arms.
“Cullen?”
“Elfroot?”
“Yes?”
“You’re collecting Elfroot.” Of course there was a simple explanation.
“Yes, I am collecting Elfroot. As you see.” With the armful of herbs she gestured helpfully in his direction.
“Elfroot," he said once more, running a tired hand down his face.
“It is medicinal,” she explained with a patient smile as if to a child.
“I am aware.”
There was a long silence and Cullen tried desperately to think of a way to leave that didn’t involve running. Evelyn shifted the herbs uncomfortably in her arms. “And you?” she asked.
“What?”
“Why are you roaming about the woods?”
“I simply…wanted to…” Cullen floundered for a reasonable explanation.
Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Let me guess: you just happened to be taking a stroll? You’ve stumbled across me quite by accident? My, what a spectacular coincidence.”
Honesty seemed the best course of action. Honesty seemed the only course of action. “Not exactly.”
“No, I didn’t think so,” she said with such smug certainty that he felt his spine stiffen with irritation.
He folded his arms. “What precisely do you think?”
“A lot of things. Mostly about kittens and cakes. But in this particular instance, I think you were following me. Admit it.”
“I have no intention of attempting to deceive you on this matter: I was.”
“Why? Was I sneaking away in broad daylight? The cunning mage, creeping through the trees, laughing to herself and rubbing her hands in glee at her own reprehensible plot?”
“That’s unfair.”
“You thought I was running away with no luggage but a cloak and a keen sense of adventure. That’s unfair.”
He hadn’t really thought that, had he? It seemed pointless to argue at any rate. “I think you have very thoroughly demonstrated the foolishness of my actions already. I was concerned: the woods can be dangerous.”
Evelyn gave him a steady look. “I’m dangerous too,” she said with menacing calmness. Cullen frowned. Evelyn dissolved into laughter before putting on an exaggerated snarl, dropping the Elfroot to make her hands into claws. “The sneaky mage whooooo! Coming for your children in the night!”
Cullen shook his head and let out a breathy laugh despite himself. “Have you ever…”
“Ever what?”
“Ever held a single conversation in your life without resorting to the ridiculous?” Based on the evidence of their acquaintance so far he already suspected the answer.
She looked pleased with herself and laughed too. “Not yet.”
“I’m sorry,” he told her sincerely.
“What for?” Evelyn asked, laughter fading, brow creasing.
“I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“No, some templar instinct kicking in. Seeing a mage wandering about triggers your find-and-subdue mechanism I suppose.”
“I’m not a templar. Not anymore,” Cullen said with practised calm. Evelyn’s eyes widened slightly before her surprise melted into a look more thoughtful. Cullen braced for ridicule but there was no other response: no witty rejoinder or joke at his expense. “You’re a valuable asset to the Inquisition and I was surprised to see you setting out alone. I was curious, more than anything.”
Evelyn pointed to her chest. “Me? A valuable asset to the Inquisition? Goodness Ser, you do come on strong.” She fanned herself with her hand.
Cullen groaned. “You clearly wished for solitude: I will impose upon you no longer.”
“And surely you have recruits to go and yell at?”
“I don’t yell at the recruits.”
“What do you call raising your voice and projecting it in their general direction then? Shouting?”
“I meant it isn’t just mindless yelling. I don’t shout: I instruct.”
“Loudly,” she said, drawing it out and smirking. Infuriating woman. Did she always have to have the last word?
“As you say then. I should return.”
“Once more: thank you.”
He had turned to leave but looked over his shoulder and saw her gathering up the Elfroot, using the corner of her cloak to form a bundle. “Of course.”
“For not subduing me I mean.” He let out a long sigh in response. “I will see you later,” she told him cheerily.
“Very well.”
“Probably anyway. If I don’t, you know…” She mimed running on the spot.
“You’ll never let me live this down, will you?”
“Honestly I’m touched that you wanted to check up on me. Thank you, truly.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You could be right. It is dangerous out here. I think I saw squirrel tracks earlier.”
“I really am leaving.”
“Oh abandoning me just when I was starting to feel frightened of the woods!” she called after him. He threw up a hand, partly in surrender, partly to wave goodbye. “Don’t worry, I’ll call you if I need you. ‘Help! Help! Your valuable asset needs help! I’m being attacked by a rogue sparrow! Argh, it’s tiny beak is upon me!’”
The sound of her giggling seemed to follow him further through the trees than was possible.
A mystery, she was a complete, baffling, frustrating mystery to him. One that he was in equal parts mildly afraid of and intrigued by.